


Flutter

by Otonymous



Category: MLQC: Fandom, Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice (Video Game), love and producer
Genre: Angst, F/M, Smutty Flashbacks, Spoilers, mild depictions of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-31 23:31:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20248462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otonymous/pseuds/Otonymous
Summary: Get inside Lucien's head during the explosive events of Chapter 13.





	Flutter

**Author's Note:**

> Needless to say, the recent update of Mr Love: Queen’s Choice had me SHOOK in the best of ways. I love a good dose of angst in my star-crossed romances and Lucien does not disappoint. 
> 
> I wrote this story in an attempt to get into the enigmatic professor’s head, thinking it would be interesting to see his reaction to the crazy events of Chapter 13. 
> 
> The lines marked with an asterisk were taken directly from this chapter, and some liberty was taken in my interpretation of the events. Please note the warnings (especially the bit about SPOILERS) and happy reading!

The flutter of her eyelids so entranced him that Lucien was reminded of the gentle movement of butterflies, wings slowly drawing open and closed, iridescent under the morning sun as they patiently waited for the dew that weighed down tiny bodies to evaporate. Patiently waiting for the chance to fly.

Flight.

The girl really should’ve known better, and Ares wondered what she would do if given the choice all over again. Would she choose to fly — far, far away from the palm of his hand? Or would she choose to throw herself into his embrace, doomed to repeat her error?

He struggled to imagine it many times before — a reality where he was completely immune and impartial to her charms. How easy it would’ve been to accomplish the objectives of his mission instead of drawing it out, torturously slow…just for the chance to see her eyelids flutter once more like they did now — the girl digging the tip of his pen into the soft flesh of her throat. And as cold steel extracted crimson drops that coalesced to impregnate the “X” etched into the body of the pen, Lucien watched as rivulets of red ran down the neck he so loved to kiss.

Hadn’t her eyelids fluttered that night when Lucien brought his lips so close to hers, plum-stained from wine and trembling to feel the warm caress of his breath? Deliberately refraining from touching her, the professor ignored the anticipatory heaves of her chest as he tested himself for the umpteenth time:

_All you have to do is walk away._

But he didn’t. He couldn’t. The line between Lucien and Ares was blurring, and his chest clenched painfully when he realized he could no longer fathom the border between truth and lies. Shadow and light had mixed to form a murky grey that held him in its sway, until all he could focus on was his own reflection in dilated pupils, her body honest in a way he was not.

Not to her. Not to himself.

Suddenly, she speaks, attempting to project her voice like a cornered animal trying to appear larger than it was. Her words tremble pitifully, shaking like the pen that burrowed further into skin to increase the flow of blood. But under the influence of adrenaline, the girl didn’t even flinch.

“Let me go.”*

* * *

_“I’ll never let you go. Does that scare you?”_

She smiled as she shook her head in response, and the earnestness of his own voice shocked Lucien, sounding every bit like a young boy standing beneath the shade of a camphor tree, promising the world to a little girl in exchange for a paper crane.

_“Not at all. It makes me happy.”_

Her smile faltered, shapely lips giving way to a rounded gasp as Lucien dove even deeper inside her, pressing his face to the delicate hollow between her neck and shoulder to hide the emotions that rose up to colour his mien.

_“Foolish girl. Do you even know what you are saying?”_

Tongue tracing up the length of her carotid to feel its frantic pulse beneath delicate skin, Lucien whispers against the shell of her ear before sucking the lobe into his mouth. And when she presses her body — hot and desperate — to his in response, his heart brims over with an affection so rare as to feel foreign.

Reaching one hand behind him, Lucien further secures the legs wrapped tightly around his waist, relishing the way her hips surged up to deepen their connection until their bodies merged in climax, seized by the same convulsions that made them cling to one another, vulnerable to the dictates of desire.

_“Is that a promise then? That you’ll never let me go?”_

The girl held up her pinky, cheeks rosy in her post-coital bliss, and the juxtaposition of naïveté and eroticism proved entirely too intoxicating for Ares.

So he wrapped his little finger around hers, the gesture one of utmost sincerity when he says,

_“I’ll always come back for you.”_

* * *

“Let me go!”*

The girl repeated, the shake of her hand now visible even to the men in black, waiting impatiently behind Ares.

“You think you can negotiate with me?”*

The light in her eyes falters for a moment and Ares’ breath catches slightly, practically imperceptible even to himself.

“You…you still owe me a thank-you gift.”*

_Good girl._

Lucien regards her with the pride of a teacher looking upon his favourite student, already anticipating his next move as he spoke,

“Don’t let me catch you again.* You won’t be so lucky next time around.”

Her eyelids flutter once more — relief tinged with the hue of disbelief — before opening wide to see Ares dispense with the men charging at her with a singular flash of white light, the scene around them suddenly peaceful again, as if the entire event was a figment of her imagination, the remnants of some feverish dream.

But the sight of Lucien before her told her this was real, even if he had wanted her to believe that everything about him — about _them_ — up to now had been lies.

And as he walks away, body slowly merging into shadows that crept into day like insidious fog, the pen slips from her hand to clatter on the ground, the echo drowned out by the girl yelling with all her might behind him,

“I will never trust you again, Ares, because you are not Lucien! He would never harm me…Ares and Lucien have nothing to do with each other!”*

Turning around to face her before the rift swallowed him up entirely, Ares looked into her eyes, wet with tears, and found that it was his heart that fluttered this time.

For she was right. Ares and Lucien had nothing to do with each other, because both had ceased to exist in the world they had inhabited as lovers. Only the man who adored her remained, nascent and nameless.

And as the professor succumbed to the rearrangement of every particle in his body, a gravitational pull so strong it distorted the space around him, he mouthed the words,

“I’ll always come back for you. So wait for me, little butterfly.”


End file.
